The Girl History Forgot
by Va'al
Summary: She was the first female Provost's Guard. However, she wasn't written down in the history books. She was only found in the journals of a Dog that shared Beka Cooper's last name.
1. Chapter 1

Well, this is it. My first story for this fandom. Please read and review. Concrit is most definitely welcomed and I hope you enjoy!

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**From the journal of Rebakah Cooper, Provost's Guardswoman, Corus, the Realm of Tortall**

Monday, April 26, 251

Court day today. As each one passes, it becomes less daunting. It becomes easier to find my words. After the past couple of years, work has been calm. Most of the rats my newest partner and I bag now are smaller ones. No more realm threatening rings of counterfeiters and royal childnappers. I love the work but sometimes it gets boring. Achoo and Pounce agree with me.

After Court, I went and visited my Lord Provost as I had not done so for a while. He had something interesting for me that came in the form of journals, much like mine.

"I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, but I think you might find the person who wrote them interesting," he started off as he set them in front of me. "I found these in my personal library. I don't know how I missed them in the past."

I opened the journal on top of the pile. In the top left corner was a faded name. Kaleb Cooper. I stared at it before looking back up at my Lord Provost.

"My Lord?" I inquired, curious as to why he was showing me these. Sure the name was the same as mine but that couldn't be the only reason he was showing me these.

"When you have time, I want you to rewrite these. I managed to read most of them and there's valuable information in there that I think should be preserved. Our history shapes our country and our people."

I nodded and gathered the journals up. I would see if I could recruit anyone to help me as this was sure to be a dull chore.

"Oh, Beka," my Lord Provost mentioned as I was nearly out the door. I glanced back with a curious look. "Start with the seventh one. There's a story in there that should be interesting for you to read."

Sitting here, I'm preparing to begin the rewriting. The first page of each journal seems to be a list of the major events that happened. The man, Kaleb Cooper, seems to be even more meticulous about his journal keeping than I am. One date has already caught my eye.

July 7, 154—Start of training. Girl to start training.

Quite curious indeed. In the history that I know of the Provost's Guard, the first female Dog didn't start her training until 161.

Pounce has placed a paw on the journal.

_ I remember her, _he mewed quietly. _I watched her from the stars. She kept things interesting for a while. No one believed in her except for very few._

"Who was she?"

_Just a girl. Start with the third journal though. She's first mentioned there._

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**Kaleb Cooper's third journal, senior sergeant in the capital city of the country Tortall**

Monday, June 6, 145

Today the surviving trainees were presented to the city as newly made guardsmen. Out of the fifty or so that started last summer, only twenty-three remain. Less than half. They all looked promising but once we send them out into the streets to get some practical lessons, they'll start dropping again. However, this time it won't be because they can't handle the training or the pressure. No, this time it will be because they won't receive the glory they expect or because they'll die on the job. Some will die while stopping a brawl. Others will die because they poked too far into something that they should have ignored. Even more will get on the wrong side of those who work the streets. Out of the twenty-three that remain, I only expect less than ten will make it past their fifth year as a Guard. That's how it normally goes.

Still, even knowing these statistics like I know every scar on my body, shivers run down my spine whenever I remember the events of earlier today.

"Guards! Turn out!"

As one, the twenty-three trainees turned to face the streets, eyes straight ahead. None of them saw the watching merchants and peasants, too focused on what was about to happen. The sergeants, including myself, walked down the line, presenting them with the gifts they had earned by completing the year of training to become a Guard. A black uniform with white trimming—the outfit all first year guardsmen would wear. A copper badge with the city's insignia etched into it—a sign that they would serve the city and protect everyone in it until they retired or were killed. As senior sergeant, I presented them with the most important gift—a weighted lead baton. This was their weapon and every Guard knew that without it, they would not survive the night on the streets. It was the ultimate symbol of the Provost's Guard.

The last part of the ceremony came as soon as the last baton had been handed out. I gave the signal to the herald, who nodded.

"Guards! Salute your city!"

The twenty-three men moved as one as they took their batons and raised them to the sky. They may not have been watching the crowd but I had been. It was a habit after years of being a Guard. I never let myself become too comfortable, even in the safety of my home. There could be an attack or ambush at any time and it could be from anyone. I had made a lot of enemies over the years.

There was a girl around the age of six or seven near the front of the crowd, watching with wide eyes. Her eyes never stayed in one place for very long. She was clearly trying to take as much in as she could without missing a single detail.

"That's fair glorious," she said as the newly made Guards saluted. I let a small smile overtake my face. Such innocence. Normally it can't be found in older children. This one was certainly unique, in many ways.

The girl almost certainly came from the slums, if the state of her dress was anything to go by. It was too small and hung in tatters. The original color couldn't be told as dirt and stains covered it. Dirt and ashes smudged her skin but her eyes, light in color, stood out. Her light blonde hair was slightly matted but not overly bad. It probably had something to do with the braid she had tied it in. If it wasn't for the dirt, she could be quite pretty. I was slightly surprised the child snatchers hadn't gotten their hands on her.

While I watched, she turned to an older boy standing close by.

"That'll be me some day," she informed him. He snorted and sneered at her.

"No girl has ever been a Guard," he snapped. "Only noble women fight and that's as knights. Plus, there's no way they'd accept slum scut into their ranks."

He received a scowl from the girl that was more adorable than intimidating.

"Wait and see," she replied in a short voice. "I'll be up there some day." She turned away from the boy and seemed to stare directly at me.

"I'll be a Guard one day," she whispered. I don't know how I managed to hear that. Even now, I'm still not sure I hadn't made it up. Struck by her determined and slightly eerie voice, I could only nod.

I don't know why this girl struck me as different. I often hear girls on the streets joking to their families about how they'll be Guards and earn a living doing something worthwhile. Often, the next time I see them or their families, they've either been snatched or married or round with child. I don't take the girls seriously anymore.

Still, somehow, I believe she's different. If she manages to evade the child snatchers, I have hope for her. Maybe she's the one girl who can prove that women can defend our city too.

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Once again, please read and review! It would absolutely make my day!


	2. Chapter 2

**Kaleb Cooper's seventh journal, senior sergeant in the capital city of the country Tortall**

Wednesday, July 7, 154

Training has started for a new year. The current trainees have moved on, leaving their quarters empty for the newcomers. Signs have gone up around the city in these past few weeks. Many hopefuls will arrive but only fifty or so will pass the first tests. To become a guardsman, weakness is not tolerated. All the trainees will have to be strong in both body and mind.

The newest bunch of hopefuls started arriving before dawn, when the tests would start. The traditional sorts showed up—the sons of merchants, the sons of sailors, and those who had survived the harsh world of the slums. I could already pick out those that wouldn't pass the first round of tests. After years of training, I could tell which ones would be too weak, too rash, or too overconfident. If—by some odd chance—they made it through the tests, they wouldn't last a month in training.

I was among the guards that were making sure all the boys were dressed properly for what was about to come. It would make no sense to have them perform the tests in fine or constraining garments. The few that weren't dressed properly were given spare changes of clothes and told to go change.

I was reaching the end of my line when I came across her. She was standing in line with the boys, wedged between two large boys that must have come from somewhere between the docks and the slums. I stared at her for a minute, not sure what was going on.

"My name's Valeska and I'm here to become the first guardswoman," she chirped, standing straight with her arms held firmly at her sides. I tried to pick up what district she was from by her voice but there was no distinct accent I could pick up on. How unusual. A couple of the boys standing near enough to hear her laughed quietly. Surprisingly, neither of the boys next to her did. In fact, they seemed rather bored.

Out of habit, I glanced around for someone higher in authority than me. I didn't know how to handle this. I had heard girls on the streets joke about becoming a guard but this was the first one that had actually shown up when training had begun.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hesitant. The girl nodded.

"I can do this," she said confidently. Holding in a sigh, I nodded and moved on. There was really nothing I could do. She was wearing the right types of clothes for training and there were no rules against females becoming guards so I couldn't prevent her from attempting it. The only thing I could hope for was that she failed the tests or that the boys drove her out after a few days. Most people didn't know the realities that guards faced and I'm sure she's one of those. The life of a guard was no place for a woman.

As soon as the sun had breached the horizon, the tests began. First, the trainees had to run laps. Ten times around the perimeter of the building. It was a simple test but it was one of the harder ones. I'm always surprised by the sheer amount of boys that aren't able to do something as simple as that.

As the boys ran the laps, I kept a close eye on the girl. She was able to keep pace with the boys in the middle of the group, running an average pace. She stuck with them the entire time and by the time the laps were over, she was only as winded as everyone else. I considered that for a moment. Maybe she indeed had a chance at this.

After the first ten laps, the trainees had to prove that they had learned some basic hand-to-hand combat and that they could distinguish what certain weapons were. They would come into contact with many of them on the streets as they would either be using them personally or be attacked by criminals wielding similar weapons.

After the combat tests, the trainees had to show that they knew how to read and write and do basic mathematics. The guards weren't equipped to teach trainees such skills. Guards needed to be able to write reports and read missives. The literacy test was the test that sent the most boys home.

By the time the tests were over with at the end of the day, a third of the boys were sent away. They were currently unfit for this particular lifestyle. Some would come back next year and others would never think again about this day in their life. Within a week, a third of the ones remaining I predict will go home. The first few weeks the guardsmen in charge of training go out of their way to push the boys to their limits. The ranks of guards will only accept the best of the best.

Surprisingly, at the end of all this, the girl remained among those who had passed the tests. She stood among the boys remaining proudly as they watched the others being sent home. A few of the boys leaving sent scowls in her direction. I wouldn't be surprised if some were hissing comments about her reputation as they passed by. If they did, she didn't even seem fazed by them. She might have even expected them. It was, I'll admit, a typical male response.

"Kaleb, what are we going to do about the girl?" Jemison, one of the guards in charge of training approached me. I glanced over at the girl. She was standing beside the two boys she was with this morning. They looked much more tense than she did.

"Nothing in the rulebook saying she can't train," I pointed out.

"But she's a girl," Jemison's eyes widened.

"I'm not blind," I replied in a wry voice. "Do you want to be the one in charge of telling the lady knights we prevented a girl from trying to become a Guard?"

Jemison blanched at the thought. The lady knights could be quite intimidating when insulted and they would surely take that as an insult.

"But the trainees are supposed to live here and we can't have a girl living with all these boys," he claimed. I pondered that for a moment.

"Cook's daughter just got married," I remembered. "She can stay in her old room."

"Are you sure?" Jemison questioned. "Cook's known for being old-fashioned."

I stared the man down.

"I don't care whether or not Cook's old-fashioned," I said firmly. "We're only required to give the girl a chance. Whether or not she succeeds is up to her."

Instead of waiting around for more questions, I brushed past Jemison to the front of the room.

"Congratulations on taking your first step to becoming a guard. Training has officially started. You'll be given the morning tomorrow to move your things into your assigned rooms and classes will begin when the first afternoon bell strikes. Mornings and evenings will be dedicated to physical and skill training while afternoons will be dedicated to book lessons. When this year is done, not only will you have memorized the laws of this land, you'll also know how to spot, track, and arrest those who have broken those laws. You'll know the basics of everything you will need to use in this life, basics which will be refined when you leave training and become an official guard. How well you learn those skills will be what determines if you survive. Good luck."

I stepped to the back of the room, holding back a small grin at the intimidated looks I saw on some of the trainees' faces.

"Good job, boss," I heard some of the training guards mutter as I passed by. I turned to one of them.

"Get Cook for me," I ordered. The man nodded and instantly obeyed.

It has been quite an eventful day and I have yet to file an official report on the trainees this year. Lord Provost will have quite the shock when he realizes that there is a girl included in my statistics.

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Sorry it took so long for me to update! Any concrit is welcome and I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Kaleb Cooper's seventh journal, senior sergeant in the capital city of the country Tortall**

_Wednesday, July 7, 154_

_Written at the end of the day_

Last night, Cook and I argued for nearly an hour about whether the girl would stay with her or not.

"I won't let her stay! I won't encourage it and neither should you. You shouldn't be letting her continue with this madness!"

"Would you rather have her stay up by the boys and have her become the talk of the street?" I asked. "I'm trying to make sure that her reputation stays in tact as much as possible."

Cook snorted.

"She won't have a reputation at all once words gets out about today. She'll be the talk of the city for sure," she replied. "I saw her earlier today. She's slum scut through and through. I won't be letting her stay next door to my young ones."

I narrowed my eyes.

"How do you know she's from the slums?" I asked. "She has no accent."

Cook sighed.

"I've seen her from time to time. Calanthe liked to bring the leftovers down there and I would go with her to make sure that none of the men tried to steal her," she explained. I wasn't surprised. Cook was a built, intimidating woman that could throw cleavers with ease. Cook continued. "She was very noticeable there with her looks. No one knew how she was able to escape the child snatchers."

"Please, Cook," I asked again.

"No," Cook replied firmly. "I don't trust slum scut and I don't want her planting strange ideas in my children's heads."

"What strange ideas?" I asked. "That woman can defend their city?"

"Women don't have any place doing a man's job just like men don't have any place doing a woman's job," Cook replied sharply. "It's unnatural. Oh, it's all very fine for the lady knights," she continued as I opened my mouth, knowing what my next point would be, "but they're nobility. Nobility can do whatever they want. We're normal people. We don't have those luxuries."

"You won't let her stay for just a little while until we get different living arrangements figured out?" I asked. Cook scowled.

"No," she replied. "Let it be. My answer will stay the same and I need to prep for tomorrow's meals." She gave me a stern look. "Unless you don't want your trainees to go without breakfast and lunch tomorrow."

The thought of all the complaining that would be going on made me drop the subject. Cook stepped around me and made her way to the kitchens. I followed her, hoping to argue my point when she was in a better mood.

Most of Cook's help had already left for the evening but there was one other person in the kitchen when we entered, cutting vegetables with quick precision. Cook scowled upon seeing the girl using her knives without permission.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked. The girl looked up. Her blonde hair had been tied back with a string to keep it out of the way of her knife.

"Preparing lunch for tomorrow," she replied. "I figured I would do so while you prepare breakfast."

Cook's scowl grew.

"What makes you think I need help?" she demanded. The girl turned back to her vegetables and resumed cutting.

"Never said that you do," she replied. "I'm doing this for myself. I like cooking. It relaxes me."

Cook gave the girl a long stare.

"You don't need to play nice with me," she said.

"Not playin' nice," the girl replied calmly. "Like I said, cookin' relaxes me." It was there now, I realized. Her accent was there. It was just very subtle. Nearly impossible to hear.

Cook narrowed her eyes as she watched the girl chop away. She glanced at me with suspicion in her eyes. I shook my head, signaling that I had nothing to do with this. Cook turned her gaze back on the girl.

"Just cooking?" Cook asked. "Or baking, too?"

"I can bake but cooking was easier with what I could get back home," Valeska replied. She glanced back up and met Cook's gaze steadily. I'm not sure what happened in that moment but clearly some agreement was reached because the next moment, Cook was pulling out the materials she would need to prep for breakfast.

"After training's done, you help me with prep for the next day. Don't talk to my children and don't make a mess and don't slack on anything. Got it?"

Valeska nodded. Cook seemed satisfied. From what I gathered, Cook had agreed to let Valeska stay in her empty room. As I was leaving, I heard Cook say,

"Once you're done with those potatoes, start on the onions. Lunch tomorrow is stew."

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_Friday, July 9, 154_

_Written after dinner_

I had forgotten how long the first full day of training could be, both for the trainees and the guards that teach them. The half-day yesterday barely even gave the trainees a taste of what they would be facing for the next year. Already two have left, though the girl isn't among them. She stays, strong and determined as ever. She doesn't look tired, despite having been up later than the rest for the past two days helping Cook.

I had gotten up before the sun broke the sky and was at the training grounds by dawn. Other guards were in charge of making sure that the trainees were up and ready to go. I had briefly thought to go make sure the girl was woken up but I figured that if she couldn't hear the shouts that were echoing around the entire building, it was on her shoulders. I had made a vow to treat her like any other boy and since I wouldn't go and make sure that the boys had for sure woken up, I wouldn't go to see that she was awake.

I needn't have been concerned. She was already at the training ground when I arrived, dressed in training clothes and standing at attention. There were shadows under her eyes, clear signs that she had barely slept.

"Should have gotten some sleep," I commented as I approached her. "You've got some long days ahead of you."

Valeska smiled bitterly.

"I'm used to no sleep and long days, sir" she replied. "I've gone three days straight without sleep before. It's nothing new to me."

There was no surprise there. She was from the slums and was on the pretty side. No doubt she was used to unwanted advances and needed to stay constantly on guard to make sure that she didn't end up in a situation she couldn't get herself out of.

I didn't reply because the boys started stumbling in, dressed in training clothes as well. Many of them looked surprised to see Valeska still around.

"They decided to keep you?" one of the boys called to Valeska as he lined up. His shirt was on backwards. I recognized him as one of the boys that had stood next to her in the very beginning.

"Yep," Valeska answered. "Is that a problem with you?"

The large boy rolled his eyes.

"Not with me but…" he said. My eyes narrowed as he trailed off, as did Valeska's. She sniffed but didn't reply. I felt like I was missing something in their interaction.

"Your name?" I asked the boy. He glanced at me and straightened up.

"Benson, sir," he replied.

"Your shirt is on backwards," I pointed out. "Next time, show up when you're properly dressed."

A few of the boys snickered as Benson turned his shirt around. Valeska sighed and rolled her eyes.

When the trainees were all gathered, I began.

"Yesterday, we went easy on you," I said as I paced in front of the line. "I hope you enjoyed yesterday because there are no more breaks. There are no more half days. At any given time, you'll be expected to put on your uniform and settle riots or assist the army in keeping out invaders. You won't _have_ half days to get ready. If you're lucky, you'll get an hour. Most cases, you'll get ten minutes.

"It is our job as defenders of the city to make sure order is maintained and that peace is kept. That means listening to everyone, no matter what part of the city they come from. Every person in this city has an equal say and every person deserves as much protection as the other.

"All of you come from different backgrounds. Those backgrounds no longer matter. To best serve this city, you must set aside your prejudices and treat the ones standing beside you like your family. It doesn't matter if you come from the Upmarket district, the Flash district, the Highfields district, the docks, or the slums. It doesn't matter if you are boy or female. You are all one unit and you are all serving the same master—the king and his city."

I stopped my pacing and stared down the line in front of me. Some of the trainees looked frightened. Others looked emboldened and a few were impassive. I had done my job. I gestured to the corporals standing behind me.

"Let's start," I commanded. The group was divided into halves. The first group was taken further into the building to the classrooms where they would start their book learning. They would learn how to track, how to read a criminal and predict their actions, and the laws of the city. The other group stayed on the training grounds to begin the more physical lessons—how to use a baton effectively, how to dodge attackers and the quickest way to take them down, and how to make an arrest and pat down a criminal. I watched for a while. Some had talent while others just made me cringe. It was always the same—some have the knack and the others are hopeless.

All in all, it was a calm day of training. There were some that complained at first but there are always a few complainers in the group. Valeska never uttered a word, even when the corporals drove her harder than any of the boys or when the boys made snide comments about her reputation.

Maybe she has a chance.

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Concrit is very much welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**From the journal of Rebakah Cooper, Provost's Guardswoman, Corus, the Realm of Tortall**

_Monday, May 3, 251_

Another Court day today. The task my Lord Provost has given me has been more interesting than I thought it would be. There's not much about the girl Valeska in the day-to-day entries but every once in a while, there's an entry dedicated to her. I still have to wonder why there has been nothing recorded in the official records about her attempt to become a Dog. I've asked Goodwin and a few other senior female Dogs but they've never even heard of a woman named Valeska.

It makes me wonder. It can't have been easy being the first girl to try to become a Dog. There were surely many who thought she belonged at home. There are still many that think that today, despite there having been female Dogs for ninety years. Still, it has been an intriguing experience…

Rosto stopped by earlier today. He does so now and then, probably to make sure that I haven't gotten myself killed on duty. I also think that he likes to check in on my tasks to see what us Dogs are up to. Whenever I scold him for it, he just laughs. He always says that once I retire from being a Dog, there will be no one to keep him on his toes. In my opinion, he'll probably be killed before I retire and I tell him that.

"Rewriting journals?" he asked, spotting the pile that lay beside my desk and made a face. "Is crime in the Lower City really that lacking?"

I scowled at Rosto.

"How can it be lacking?" I asked. "There's still a Rogue that runs things and from what I've learned, as long as there's a Rogue, there's crime."

Rosto grinned and took a seat.

"But it's lovely, organized crime. Just think of the mess it would be if you didn't have me to take care of it. Now whose journals did you get stuck with rewriting?"

"Kaleb Cooper, a sergeant back in hundred fifty-four," I answered. "We think he's an ancestor of mine of sorts. My Lord Provost thinks there's some stories in there that need to be shared with the rest of the Dogs."

"Like what?" Rosto asked, curiously flipping through the closest journal.

"Like the fact that there's a girl training to become a Dog in that year, instead of in one sixty-one like we've been told," I stated bluntly, taking back the weathered journal.

Rosto raised an eyebrow. He looked as intrigued as I must have been originally.

"Are you sure it's a different girl?" he asked. "Are you sure that this girl didn't drop out and come back a few years later?"

I shook my head.

"Abellona and Valeska are definitely two different people, judging by accounts," I informed him. Rosto's eyebrow shot up even further and an amused look crossed his face. Just like that man to find something like this amusing. Rosto stood up and set the journal aside.

"Valeska, the legend," he said with a grin. "Well, have a good time making out those tiny, faded words. And don't go sliding into any piles of fish guts, you hear?"

I scowled at the reminder of the incident that happened when I was just a Puppy. It had been a long time since someone had brought _that_ up.

"Be gone with you," I snapped as he headed for the door. "Go make trouble elsewhere."

It wasn't until he was long gone when I began to wonder if Rosto had recognized either of the names I gave him. It certainly seemed like he had and he certainly left fast enough afterwards. It makes me wonder if he might be hiding something.

Of course he's hiding something. It's _Rosto_…

**Kaleb Cooper's seventh journal, senior sergeant in the capital city of the country Tortall**

_Thursday, August 12, 154_

It's started.

I assume it's been going on since the beginning but this is the first time when it's come to my attention. I wish that it wasn't so but I would have been cracked to think something like this wouldn't happen. Unfortunately, I understand human nature all too well and it was nearly impossible that Valeska would be able to train without incident.

I knew when I made the decision that there would be plenty of people that wouldn't be as understanding as I was. I can't count the number of times that I've been told that I'm too progressive, especially for a guard of my rank. The number has only increased since I've allowed Valeska to continue training.

It first came to my attention this morning just before breakfast. Every once in a while I've been checking in on Valeska outside of training. She's not the only one that wants to prove that girls can become guards as well.

Walking into the kitchen, it was apparent almost immediately that something was wrong. Cook's helpers were giving both Cook and Valeska a wide berth. Cook was glaring fiercely at everything she looked at and I jumped slightly as Valeska slammed her knife through a slab of meat and into the wood table beneath it. Momentarily, I had regrets about entering the kitchen where knives and irritated women were in abundance.

"Something happened?" I asked Cook, who nodded curtly and gestured for her assistants to keep working.

"The cuts of meat I received this morning aren't the ones that I normally get," she told me. "They're lower quality and I was told by the butcher that unless I stopped sheltering the girl, those are the cuts that I'll keep getting from him." Her tone made it clear of what she thought of the man's actions.

In the background, I could hear the harsh cutting of Valeska's knife through the slab of meat. Cook glanced at the girl warily and then back at me.

"That's not all," she said in a quieter voice. "I suspect that there's been similar things going on.

I sighed. It wouldn't surprise me.

"Valeska?" I asked. The girl's shoulders shrugged at my unanswered question.

"There's been a few men offering to pay me," she said as she kept cutting.

"Pay you to do what?"

Valeska looked at me with tired eyes. As usual, there were bags under her eyes. I doubt that the girl has ever slept more than three hours at a time, even in a place as safe as the guard barracks.

"To leave, to fail," she said and then gave me a hesitant look. "And to give them—"

"Services," I finished, frowning. "Who?"

Valeska smiled bitterly.

"There's too many to name," she said. "Or do you honestly want me to give you the name of a fifth of the city? Don't worry. I'm used to it. I just wish they hadn't started taking it out on other people."

Cook gave a derisive snort.

"They're not taking it out on me," she snapped. "I can always take my business elsewhere. His cuts were crap to begin with. I can't tell you the number of times I've seen maggots in his shop."

Valeska set down her knife.

"I'm done," she announced to Cook. "I need to change into training clothes."

Cook nodded and the younger woman ducked away. The two have reached a compromise over the weeks, much sooner than I expected.

"It still bothers her," Cook said quietly. "My girls have seen her on the streets during the time you give them off of training. They say when there aren't crude remarks, the people on the street are calling out threats about what they'll do to her once she wears the uniform of a guard. From what I can tell, the only place where that doesn't happen are in the slums, where she's regarded as a hero."

While I'm glad that Valeska has someplace to go where she isn't scorned by the general populace, I'm not sure what I think of her going back to the slums. There's a whole new set of dangers that she faces in the slums.

"She came back with bruises on her arms and shoulders one day," Cook continued. "She wouldn't say what happened but the bread baker said she saw a group of men swarming her, bribing and threatening her to leave."

I understood what Cook was trying to say. Sooner or later it wouldn't be safe for Valeska to go outside. There was a high possibility that a mob would form if she continued on this path. All of the senior guards were aware of these possibilities. We had started preparing for these types of things the moment that it became apparent that the girl would start training with the other prospective guards. However, those preparations were only for things that would happen at the barracks and training grounds, not situations that would come up on the streets.

"Her free time is her free time," I told Cook. "We can't stop her from doing anything."

Cook's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.

"I'm aware of that," she snapped. "That girl is as stubborn as any boy in this building. She didn't even say anything until she came back with those bruises. If she can, this girl is going to keep quiet about everything that happens to her."

"Why?" I asked. Cook sighed and her shoulders slumped.

"Why else?" she asked. "She's used to it. Nothing more, nothing else. She believes that dealing with such things are her lot in life."

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Apologies for the wait! I hope you enjoyed this installment and concrit is very welcomed.


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